Welcome to my Inner World. I am a French self-taught artist, and these past twenty years I have made Norway my home. Moving to the Lofoten islands was the greatest present I ever made to myself and the Arctic landscapes are indeed a true treat for any artist’s eyes. I live with my British soulmate,… Continue Reading
I’m a fan of Christmas decoration, I’m so addicted that almost everything I buy for Christmas stays up all year round. Until now, I had an optic fiber tree but alas, it stopped working and now is not a good time to buy another one. I looked longingly at the ceramic Julenisser on the shop shelves, the Scandinavian pixie of Christmas (it is he who brings presents) and sighed. Until I thought… hold on a minute, I have clay, I have a kiln, why not make my own Christmas decorations? So here is my first Julenisse:
And he’s of course a lantern. I made another lantern in the spirit of Yule :
She’s an Hearth Goddess, protector of the Home and she’s also a builder, her name is Melusine. She will be holding in her hands a sun and some stars.
Now, I just have to let them dry, and fire them. Then I’ll paint them with glazes. I hope I’ll find the right way of doing it, I’ve been so disappointed by glazes. But I’m being unfair.
The weather has been cold and rough and although it’s a comfortable 21 degrees in the house, a certain little princess needs extra cosiness. So, I found a new trick: a hot water bottle under a quilt, and here she is, totally blissful:
I dreamed a girl came for dinner and during the meal, I found out she knew an old friend of mine who acted weird (from nice and very close she suddenly rejected me in a very crass way). I said to her “Ah! At last perhaps you could tell me what went wrong? I know she was not psychotic, but I would so very much like to understand”. She looked at me a while and then started to talk in long riddles, with sentences and images that didn’t make any sense. I actually had the feeling that only this fake friend could understand what it was about. So it seemed that the only option was to give up understanding. Then the girl took me out and we walked here and there. She showed me all sort of soils. There was an area where the soil was shaped in a multitude of ponds surrounded by long grass. A father was bathing there with his son and I really felt like entering the water. In another place, the soil had been dug around a huge tree in the shape of a circle along with a circular bench so people could sit around the tree. The girl said “let me show you something very special and rare”. She pointed at a vein of soil, it was darker than the other soils. She said “this one is very rich. It is compact, full of possibilities, highly concentrated in nutrients, all kind of things grow in it, but also very unusual things. But you can’t tame it into a garden, it’s totally wild, it goes where it pleases. Running across the world. Free”. I looked at the vein which was as dark as a chocolate truffle and the beautiful wild flowers growing on it, and said “oh… that’s my kind of soil!”. She looked at me with a little smile and said “yes”.
Traduction Française ici
These days, I’ve been insidiously bothered by my total lack of sales. This is nothing new, except usually I’m not bothered so much. Also, I’m in a transition period and money is very scarce. I’ve been wondering about the meaning of my art in this world, especially when it speaks only to very few. Very, very few. I think I know why: too many details, not enough people, or if there are any, the picture doesn’t focus on them because, you see, I’m more interested in showing that everything is connected, the background is as important as the foreground. This is what matters to Soul, the plurality, the plenty and the subtle mystery (hence my nocturnal atmospheres). I will never give up on this approach for the sake of mainstream art. Because I don’t paint to sell. I don’t even paint for people. Not even friends. I paint for the Otherworld. Its Queen and its people. The dragons, the goblins, the witches. I paint for those who are totally, madly in love with the beauty of Nature and these precious moments of peace and grace. They see beyond and are very wise in their own ways. They help me to capture these beautiful visions, these soulful moments. Every time I paint, they’re by my side, guiding my steps, teaching me. I feel blessed. And so grateful. This doesn’t bring me any kind of reward in this world, but it brings me joy!
So… to go back to this insidious feeling which has been nagging me lately, I’d like to write for once and for all: I’d rather be a (well-treated) slave to Soul than a (mistreated) slave to people’s expectations of what art should be.